


Five times Yuri sat in Viktor's lap and one time it didn't stop there

by venom_for_free



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Compliant, Cute, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gift, Humor, Lap Sitting, M/M, Oneshot, Post-Canon, Romance, They Are Husbands, obviously, this is just Viktuuri being cute and dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25445059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venom_for_free/pseuds/venom_for_free
Summary: Yuri sitting on Viktor's lap.It sounded so … banal when put like that. So uneventful. But for Yuri, who was excited to breathe the same air as his idol, and for Viktor, who couldn't believe he'd managed to score the one person who managed to excite him when everything else was dull …It was heaven.--Or: A small, indulgent gift for an amazing friend.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 20
Kudos: 196





	Five times Yuri sat in Viktor's lap and one time it didn't stop there

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tutti_writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tutti_writes/gifts).



Sometimes, things that used to be accidents became regular occurrences. And sometimes, those turned into habits. 

For example, Viktor had the habit of leaving the oven on when he was done heating his food. Most of the time, there was no real harm done. Of course, it wasn't exactly the perfect scenario for their electricity bill, but usually, it just meant a bunch of hot air circulated for a while longer, and Yuri would burn a bit of his eyebrows when he eventually turned it off and opened it to air it out. 

Sometimes, Viktor said he did it to keep things warm. And of course, that would be a valid explanation, if Yuri hadn't found a bread roll turned into a little block of stonified coal twice now. But most of the days, no real harm was done. 

That didn't apply to Yuri's bad habit. Usually, Yuri didn't shave. Why would he? He barely had any body hair to begin with. Although, sometimes he just wanted to feel the smooth glide of his legs against each other, or it felt better in a costume. Half the time, the basic reason was an improved sense of self-esteem. 

And Yuri was giddy about it. Focusing on the razor blade with enough concentration to melt the steel, it always took him at least half an hour. Usually, when he was done, he would then toss the razor onto the shelf in the shower and hurry out, mentally focused on showing Viktor his newly smooth legs. 

What Yuri didn't keep in mind was that Viktor often reached into that shelf to grab his conditioner. He came back with a bleeding hand more often than he liked to admit. It always ended with Yuri sobbing because he hurt his lover. It didn't matter that it was just a tiny cut, or that _technically_ , Viktor was the one doing it. Every time, he swore he wouldn't do it again, and every few months, Viktor squeaked when he blindly reached in. 

They lived in a beautiful symbiosis of confusion and love. 

The latter was also what initially motivated Yuri's favorite version of _'used to be unique, now it's common'_. 

Sitting on Viktor's lap. 

It sounded so … banal when put like that. So uneventful. But for Yuri, who was excited to breathe the same air as his idol, and for Viktor, who couldn't believe he'd managed to score the one person who managed to excite him when everything else was dull … 

It was heaven. 

\----------

The first time happened by accident. Viktor was serving tea, Yuri was on his way to the couch, and when he dropped back in an uncharacteristically mindless way, he bumped into Viktor walking behind him. Both of them landed on the sofa, and technically, Yuri _was_ sitting on his lap, but the tray of tea was between them, and so the light burns they suffered were of higher urgency than any newly acquired intimacy. 

Cleanup was a mess, both physically and emotionally. 

\----------

The second time was in a car of all places. They had been out for the night, went dancing with their friends. In hindsight, neither of them remembered which competition was behind them. All they knew was centered around the ride home. 

Georgi was driving. He was the only one sober. Which was one of the reasons they kept inviting him, even if he continued to ruin the mood with his wailing. That night had been good, though. He scored a new girlfriend and hadn’t yet fucked it up with her, so all of them could enjoy their night out to the fullest. 

The ride home was a different story. Because the car they arrived in wasn't big enough anymore. 

Georgi would drive, that much was safe to say. But Mila, Yuri, Viktor, Yurio, and Otabek blinked at each other. For a while, they debated walking or calling a taxi. But they were a good bit away from home and none of them was motivated to wait out in the cold. Or worse, walk around in it. They simply hadn't considered that Otabek driving his bike would end them up with one more person to account for in the car on the way back. It wasn't a new concept, but usually they were fewer people. Mila or Georgi stayed home, they took two cars … They had a bunch of solutions available. Just not right now. And because they were married, and Yurio blushed a deep, angry crimson when Viktor only _thought_ of suggesting he could climb onto his friend's lap … 

So Viktor ended up with Yuri sitting on top of him. It wasn't exactly romantic and they had to stop at one point because all the bumping around caused Yuri's stomach to flutter into his throat, but they made it home without accidents. Eventually. 

\----------

The third was the first time it was planned. At least by one of them. It was mundane, really, but that made it beautiful in its simplicity. One afternoon after training, Yuri found his husband on the sofa, cuddling Makkachin. Yuri loved that dog, he really, _really_ did, but he also loved Viktor. And there was limited space on the sofa. Of course, there was no way Yuri would encourage the dog to move, or—god forbid—stand up and leave. 

So instead, he settled on the armrest, legs awkwardly folded over Viktor's, and buried his face in his lover's neck. 

It took a grand total of three minutes for all his muscles to tense up. But Viktor had an easy solution for that. Once he realized Yuri was struggling, he reached over to the armrest, wrapped his hands around Yuri's middle, and pulled him carefully towards himself. Yuri leaned on his lap before actually noticing what was going on. 

He gasped, wanted to apologise for a second, but then understood it had been Viktor's plan all along. Mostly, because his husband was smirking. Once his beating heart was calmed, Yuri took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around Viktor's neck. Makkachin raised her head and put it on top of Yuri's feet, wagging her tail excitedly. 

It ended with Yuri's muscles stiff and aching, Viktor's legs tingling, almost entirely numb, and Makkachin being as pleased as any animal could be. 

\----------

By the fourth time, there was a certain ease towards the situation. It was in Hasetsu, and something they probably shouldn't have done in the hot springs. 

At least it was just cuddling. At least they managed to keep it in their metaphorical pants enough not to soil the water. Yuri would have never forgiven himself if they actually tampered with the onsen. 

But it just felt so _nice_. 

Being back in Japan was great, anyway. It was the off-season, and being there was everything they wanted after a long time of intense training in the harsh Russian winter. The water was warm enough just to _barely_ not boil them alive. From above, snow fell gently onto their heads and Viktor complained because he was in dire need of something keeping his lips warm. 

Now, Yuri wasn't a cruel person, so of course he would save his husband's face from the inevitable damages cold lips would inflict on him. And since Yuri's lips were cold, too, climbing on top of him and kissing seemed like a good idea. 

Minutes later, when they realized they were on the best way to ruining the water, both of them stopped and put distance between themselves. 

They would get to it eventually. But there was no need to endanger the Katsukis' livelihood. 

\----------

The fifth time was distinctly different, though. Viktor was just walking through the front door when he heard a distressed cry from the bedroom. He dropped his backpack without a hint of care. After all, what if his Yuri was in danger? 

Barging through the bedroom door, he was ready to fight whatever made his husband uncomfortable, but—Viktor paused, looking at the bed. There he was, his Yuri. Not looking distressed, the liar, but with an easy, flirty smile. His body was wrapped in lingerie expensive enough to buy an older car. Viktor was well aware. He had ordered it. But it was worth every penny, the way Yuri looked in it. He moved his legs against each other, freshly shaven, so Viktor had to remember the health hazard in the morning. Yuri almost looked like liquid, sliding his legs smoothly over each other. 

Viktor wanted to be between them. Really, _really_ badly. When Yuri invited him over, almost begged with a voice deeper and rougher than it should be, and asked for Viktor to sit down … he had no idea what was going on. 

Yuri stood from the bed, moved with a grace he usually hid between layers of comfort clothes and shy smiles. Not tonight. Tonight he was the roaring beast only Viktor knew about. Viktor, and the fifty other guests of that legendary banquet, at least. 

Music filled the room and Yuri filled his mind, every curve of the luxurious body burned into Viktor's consciousness. He was a photographer, taking pictures with his mind and cataloging them in his photo book, every bit and piece of his husband's perfection. Every page of it is a testament to something only he knew. 

Yuri grinned, and oh god. There was an entire page for every way he smiled because there was so much joy and beauty in it. Viktor barely noticed his husband lowering himself down, until he felt Yuri's ass on his crotch. 

Their own entity, Viktor's hips bucked against his conscious decision. Yuri was just too perfect, his weak spot, the only thing breaking him into pieces and putting him back together. He was Viktor’s salvation, and at the same time, his biggest challenge. 

It wasn't the first time Viktor got a lap dance. Far from it. But it was the first time with Yuri, completely sober, secluded in their home, with nothing but their dirty minds and each other to keep them entertained. And this time, when Yuri sat on his lap, gently rolling his hips, smiling at Viktor _like that_ , there was nothing that could have stopped them from kissing too long, too deep, too desperately. 

\----------

Viktor wondered if it counted as the sixth time, or if it was still the fifth. The lines were bleeding into each other, and he wasn't exactly at the height of his mental capacity to solve that complex puzzle. 

He was sitting against the headboard, fully naked now. Yuri had taken off what little lingerie he had left and was now swaying in front of him, naked as the day he was born. 

Viktor had the strict instruction not to touch. Which was inherently unfair because Yuri was touching him the entire time. But tonight, this was Yuri's game and Viktor played along. So he sat on his hands, even as Yuri turned around, kneeling on all fours, legs slightly apart to fit his hand in between. 

The entire time, he watched Viktor. And because that wasn't enough torture, Yuri kept talking. Talking about how much he wanted him, needed him, and Viktor's poor, clever brain wasn't so smart anymore. He extended his hands. Didn't touch, didn't dare to, but Yuri took pity on him. He pulled his own hand back, demonstrating the result proudly to his husband. Yuri had come a long way. 

The question was obvious in Viktor's eyes. _Can I?_ Yuri nodded. He seemed to want this as much as his husband. So Viktor wrapped long, elegant fingers around strong, full hips and pulled. Carefully. Dragging Yuri closer, bit by bit, breath by breath, until their bodies met. Just a tease, just a moment, a hint of what could be. Then, Viktor pushed Yuri back, just the smallest bit. 

He was answered with a soft whine. A lovely sound. A soft sound. His Yuri. Viktor pulled him back again, teased him more, farther, but not enough. Yuri whined louder. Need, not a complaint, Viktor was well aware. So he repeated the cycle, and this time, he actually curled his nails into Yuri's flesh and dragged him onto himself. Slowly. Agonizingly slowly, until Viktor was sheathed entirely by the most beautiful creature he had ever heard, seen, or felt. 

It was slow. Slower than expected, but building up. In a way, it was reminiscent of their beginning. Hot and wild at the start, a bit of distance, then slowly, actual intimacy. 

Viktor loved having Yuri on his lap. Every version of Yuri. Admittedly, he enjoyed his husband much more than scorching hot tea, and being naked was a bigger pleasure than when barriers of clothes kept them apart, but … 

At the end of the day, Viktor loved Yuri. Every version of him. And he loved to keep him close. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! A short break from my usual Otayuri schedule, I hope you can forgive me.  
> And those who came for Vikturi, I hope I did them justice and wrote them the way you like to read them.  
> Please feel free to let me know what you think! ♥ As always, a huge thanks to my beloved Taedae for keeping me in check, literally.
>
>> Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor, and also, to you as the reader.  
> I'm also on  
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free)[, Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/venom_for_free)


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